DooMed
by Dreamweaver74
Summary: An impossible relationship on Olduvai Station. Sam recalls what might have been. Chapter 4 is up!
1. Chapter 1

I saw and loved the movie, and after reading the novel (actually before, but that's another story) a plot bunny started to form that wouldn't be denied.

This first part is the epilogue. Our cast consists of the lovely Dr. Samantha Grimm, Jenna Willits, Marcus Pinzerowski(aka Pinky), John Grimm (aka Reaper), and others. It is more of a love story than a straight- ahead shoot 'em up, and it's just being written as I go along. Hope you, Fearless Reader, come along with me.

A DooM-ed romance. Should be interesting.

Disclaimer: Doom is own by id software, Universal, and other people so not me. I'm not making anything from this.

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This is a story of what might have been, if all hell hadn't broken loose, and there was actually a fair and just God in the universe. Do I sound a little bitter? Good. It was my intention, my exact, fucking intention. I had love for one brief, shining moment, and like most things that are too good to be true, this was as well.

I can't get through to him, he won't speak to me now. I don't care about the accident, but try convincing him of that. Psych evaluations, drugs, intense therapy, all of it to no avail, and I have to keep up the research, I have to keep on with what Mom and Dad began all of those years ago.

This place...too much death here.

John was right.

Let me settle myself a bit; it's late, and the labs are far too quiet. Jenny is already gone, she and Steve are celebrating their eight year anniversary. I'm really happy for them- it's nice that someone has managed a stable relationship on Olduvai.

Let me gather my thoughts...it's been a very long time, and one would think all wounds heal after a time, if its long enough. I used to think they were right.

Ten years ago, I had just arrived here...no, let me go further back, to the three weeks prior. When my good friend Jenny Willits-then Naykovski- had a plot to keep me from being completely cloistered in my lab. When she pointed out someone who was so not my type, he was quite possibly perfect.

When she "introduced" me to Marcus Pinzerowski.


	2. Chapter 2

Time for a second chapter! I lost most of my data over the holidays and had to get the old computer fixed, but all is well now, and the story shall commence.

Thanks Very Kindly to:

**BookWorm714 **My first review, yea! I adore Pinky too. I was hoping he'd get a few more fics around here, but you never know. Thanks for the kind words, and I hope you enjoy ch 2.

**ShieiniRyoTenchiMeshiko **Thanks for the words of encouragement, and now that I'm back online, I can finally read the rest of your fic!

**Disclaimer:** Doom is own by id software, Universal, and other people so not me. I'm not making anything from this.

_In this installment, we see that poor Samantha Grimm is all work and no play. Jenna isn't about to let that happen, though..._

o-o-o-o-o-o-o

"Sam, look! What about that one?" She asked, a finger seemingly glued to my person. Poking my shoulder. She always did this to make her point, put a little emphasis on what she wastrying to say. If I didn't love her like a sister, I'd jettison her ass through the Ark. We'd only been at Papoose Lake a little under a month, and already Jenna was trying to set me up...appearently with anything, judging by the pasty, tired 'prospects' making their way through the main lobby.

"Well, how about him? He's a looker, don't you think?" I guess I should explain a little about dear Jenna Naykovski. She has a brilliant mind, the finest in the area of recumbent DNA research. That's why she's going to Mars, why she's on my team. Never mind the fact that we've been best friends since grad school, shared the same burning desire to get to Olduvai and study what most of our peers only dreamt about.

Plus, she'd been there for me when my things with John went to hell.

Her only problem was her incessant fear that I was going to condemn myself to the confines of a laboratory for weeks at a time, so enthralled with my research that I'd soon have neither the time nor inclination to find the man of my dreams, let alone go out for the occasional cup of coffee. It wasn't that I wanted to be alone.

I just wanted to find the answers to my questions more.

"Hold, on, I've found him! Even you can't deny his obvious cuteness!"

"Whoa, _him? _Now I know you have been known to have strange tastes in the opposite sex, but come on, that's taking it a little far, don't you think?"

"Eww, not Dr. Carmack!" She shook her head clear of the thought, looking as though she'd just ate a particularly sour lemon.

Just then, a tall, sandy blond in a sharp pair of glasses and perfectly pressed lab coat entered.

"Is that Steve I see?" I swear Jenna's head whipped around so fast, her freckles nearly flew off her face. "You know, the way you two go around making moon eyes at each other, you're never going to get much work done."

"_You _need someone to make moon eyes over, kiddo. Life isn't just about work, and think about it; there's a lot of cute men here, and best of all, most of them are single and will be here a long time! Like the fine specimen I was pointing out before my eye were redirected toward my beloved." She gave a sheepish grin. "I just want you to be happy, too."

How could I be annoyed when my best friend in the world was doing her level best to insure I acquired true love, too?

"What do you think? See, the fellow who is just off to the side of the check-in counter? The one with the boyish charm? _What do you think?_ Do you like him?"

I decided to play along. It was that, or I'd never find a moment's peace. "Yes, I suppose, a little short though. But he's got a certain charm."

Big mistake.

"Great! I'll be right back." Before I could open my mouth to stop her, she was up and making a beeline for the poor, unsuspecting guy...


	3. Chapter 3

Firstly, I want to thank everyone who has been good enough to read my little story:

**Cpt.ShaneScholfield **I didn't think I could pull off a love story with this particular animal, but the novelization (and my own musings!) wouldn't let me rest. I hope you enjoy chapter three!

**BookWorm714 **Haha, it's not necessary to kiss my shoes, my hand will do just fine! lol Seriously, Thanks and glad to say there's a lot of Pinky in this chapter!

**FastFuriousChick **Here's more-Enjoy!

**ShieiniRyoTenchiMeshiko **Thanks again, and I hope you like this chapter!

**Disclaimer: **Doom is owned by id software, Universal, and other people so not me. I'm not making anything from this.

This is a slightly longer chapter, and we finally get to meet Pinky...

* * *

I watched as Jenna walked over toward her one true love, Steven Willits. While not necessarily my type, I could appreciate his cuteness; pale blue eyes and a lightly tousled shock of red hair, far taller than most of the other guys there. They spoke for a little while, and I sank in my seat, taking another sip of coffee, as if they had any right to call it that. It was far too hot and too flavorless; if they ever got the food servos right, maybe the staff would take fewer sick days and actually get some work done around here!

I put the bland drink down and gathered my paperwork; there was no way I was going to be bamboozled into dating. I had too much to do, too little time, and to be perfectly honest, no burning desire to make 'moon-eyes' at anyone. Jenna narrowed her eyes at me, mouthing what looked like "Move, and die". I narrowed my eyes, about to mouth a slightly more caustic response, but not before knocking over a few important files.

"Damn!" I leaned over to pick them up, promptly got my head caught between the legs of the table, and spent what felt like the next century extracting myself.

"Need help?" It wasn't Jenna.

"Um, no...I think I've got things under control, but thanks!" The truth was, I was still hopelessly stuck, and probably would remain that way until departure day. I was usually well-known for being unflappable, calm, and almost devoid of all emotion (well, the last I'd overheard a less than amiable ex lament).

"While I usually just walk past damsels in distress, I'm afraid common decency will not permit me to do so this time. Hold on, ok?" Suddenly I was not alone under the table; there mere inches from me were a pair of placid gray eyes and a pair of what had to be the most kiss-worthy lips I'd laid eyes upon, curved into a winning smile.

I blinked away improper images bubbling within my mind, and shook my head. "Really, it's quite all right, I have to find one more report, that's all."

"You mean the one clutched in your other hand? Any particular reason you've decided to take up residence under this table? You _do _know that there's better ones around here, right? In fact, I happen to know on authority that there are far finer tables than this one. If you like, I'd be happy to show you them." All the while he had gotten close enough to place a warm hand on the top of my head; it wasn't entirely unpleasant. The next thing I knew, I was able to unfold myself from underneath, immensely grateful to be able to breathe again.

"How did you do that? I didn't think I'd ever get from under there. Thanks."

"Just one of my many fabulous talents." Gee, weren't we modest? For some reason, I couldn't get the withering glare I was mentally forming to actually make it's way to my lips, and before I knew it, this man with an ego larger than he was sitting across from me.

"This seat isn't taken, is it? I feel like I've been walking, or standing, or pacing all day! By the way, I'm Marcus, Marcus Pinzerowski. Newly arrived here in the well. I'm headed for Olduvai next month, communications officer. Hope to move up to one of the research teams before too long. Don't really want to be a glorified operator forever, you know."

"Slow down-I'm sorry, the 'well'?"

"Oh, its a nickname for Papoose Lake. You know how we have to go so far underground, we could probably tap oil, if there was any around anymore. Some of us have taken to calling this place the Well. Is there more of that awful liquid to be had?"

I glanced down at my "coffee" cup, grimacing. "Are you really sure you want some of this?" They could send humankind to Mars and beyond, but a properly brewed cup of joe was out of reach. Real java was at a premium, and unfortunately, the UAC didn't consider that a priority.

"It _is _an acquired taste, yes? You'll get used to it after a little while."

"I take it you've been here before?"

"Back in '22. I was part of a preliminary crew. We were supposed to be sent over after the Privies, to reorganize the labs. Something went wrong with the Ark, and some people were lost. Supposedly all is well now. I'm not too concerned. Can't be, really. There's no work here on Earth; if you're a solder, or a scientist, you've got to go where the credits are, right? Figure I'll take my chances on Mars."

Not exactly the line of logic I'd take, but I had to admit he had a point. There weren't many jobs to be had planet-side, and what was available was hardly fit for people with multiple degrees. We had no choice but to venture onward and upward. And the military paid very well for off-world assignments.

In any event, I had no other option. My parents began the research on Olduvai, and it was now up to me to make sure it came to fruition. While my brother insisted on playing space cowboy, one of the aforementioned 'Privies'. Why John would want to throw away a promising career in genetics to join the privatized Marines was a major bone of contention between us. I think he had far more nightmares about the accident than he'd ever let on as a boy. I knew he was sensitive, certainly more than I, and this change in direction was confusing to say the least.

All of this was best saved for another time, when I could devote all of my energy to deep and thoughtful introspection.

"So tell me - what brings you here? Wait, let me guess... your tag doesn't say your name, nor your designation, which means you're either a low-level tech, like yours truly here, or so high up the food chain the air even smells better. You're holding a ton of paperwork, but half of it is classified, so you aren't a admin. officer. And I don't think you have interests in center operations or security...but I do notice - mind if I..? " He took one of my hands in his, turning it first palm up, inspecting the lines and patterns, turning it the opposite, running a light touch across knuckles and tendons.

It was a while before I realized I hadn't taken a single breath.

"Yes. Just as I thought. Slight, delicate cut marks, some nearly imperceptible scars and on your third finger, a tiny burn, most likely from some kind of regent used to examine objects under microscope. You, my dear, are a doctor, and a very important one at that!" I could only stare, mouth open like a dead fish.

"But how..."

"I _told_ you I had many talents."

There was no denying it - the man was cute. Not my usual type, granted; a bit on the short side, seemed a bit too sure of himself. But there was something I couldn't put my finger on, something I was beginning to find very alluring... unfortunately, I had a meeting to be at in less than ten minutes, and somehow I didn't think the powers that be would be very happy at me playing Sherlock Holmes with the sort-of new guy. There really wasn't much time, and though the facility was small, it wasn't so small that finding him again wouldn't be a challenge. I resigned myself to just letting it go. Really, I did. There was no other way I could think of on such a short amount of time.

But fate isn't always that straightforward, and before I knew what I was doing, seven little words tumbled out of my mouth:

"Would you like to have dinner tonight?"

_Good grief, Sam, are you completely mad?_


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's Note:** This has been a looong time between updates; my apologies and I hope there's someone left to read it!

**Disclaimer:** Doom is owned by id software, Universal, and other people so not me. I'm not making anything from this.

_In this chapter, Sam almost cancels, and Marcus reveals there's more to him than meets the eye._

* * *

I walked back to my quarters, relieved that the science department's weekly meeting was finally over. It seemed as though time slowed to a snail's crawl, which I have to say surprised me. I'd always looked forward to the lengthy discussions, commiserating on new discoveries, and lively debates that were always guaranteed to develop when a large group of brilliant minds got together. This time however, I only wanted it to end as soon as possible. It wasn't until after I'd showered, put my hair down, up, then down again, and found myself suddenly indecisive on what to wear, that I realized what had me so reticent.

It had been 3 years since I'd gone out with anyone, and I was nervous. It wasn't like I was some innocent, afraid to relate to another, it was just that it had been so very long since I had. I felt like I was about to go out on my first date, ever. I wasn't sure if things would go well, or if Marcus and I would find anything to talk about. There was always work to fall back on, but even I wasn't that inept to think that would be enough. I wrung my hands together, realizing that perhaps it would be better to just scrap it. There was so much to do down in the labs anyway, and the fates knew we were on a tight schedule, and wouldn't it be fantastic to get ahead of it all? I stopped when the sudden chiming of my door broke me away from my mutinous thoughts.

Without thinking, I passed my hand over the security panel, allowing the door to slide open. I wasn't sure what I was going to say to get me out of our dinner date, but whatever it had been became a croaked, " …hi."

Marcus the communications tech was cocky, quick-witted, and charming. Marcus the date was some other element entirely. His dark locks curled behind his neck, and I smelled a faint hint of cologne, something I couldn't quite place. But it was nice, soothing almost. He wore simple black cargo pants and a dark blue turtleneck that set his eyes off nicely. His hands, the same that had held mine over nine hours ago, were filled with two objects; an ancient Sherlock Holmes dvd, and a vase containing the most unusual flower I'd ever seen.

"These," he said by way of greeting, "are for you. I don't know why, but they both reminded me of you. Pensive, wise, a singular personality. Am I being too esoteric?"

I took the vase, tilting my head to get a better look at the delicate white blooms. I paused, not quite sure how to respond. Was he being serious, or just having me on?

"What's wrong? Did I pick out a bad one?"

"No-no, it's not that. I'm actually rather speechless. I can't remember the last time a saw a flower in person, let alone one so beautiful. How did you acquire it?"

"I'll show you."

We took the lift down to the north corridor. The non-coms and auxiliary staff resided here, and the condition of the floor, while not shabby, lent to the impression that unlike the upper floors, expenses had been spared here. We arrived at his room, and Marcus pulled an old-style security card from his pocket.

"We don't have any secure projects running around these parts, so the brass doesn't see fit to equip our rooms with biometric sensors, nanowalls, or any other marvels of the modern world. I feel so last century!"

The doors parted slowly, and I immediately noticed a oddity; throughout the complex, the temperature was a comfortable 72 degrees. Even our individual suites maintained that hospitable climate. Not Marcus' room. As soon as I set foot inside, I felt as if I'd stepped into a tropical paradise. It had to be at least ten degrees warmer. The whole space was filled with flowers, some I recognized from educational vids. In one corner, a glass enclosure the size of a small closet housed a number of orchids, their unusual shapes and hues lending themselves well to the environment. In another, Gerber daisies and roses vied for prominence. Tall examples of water grass and ice plants, and tuberoses left me speechless yet again.

"But Marcus, you do realize that most, if not all of these are extinct, or near it. We're not even allowed to have unsanctioned life here. That includes botanical experiments."

"As you well know, we don't exactly have a lot in the way of leisure activities around here, and this is something I've done since before I could walk. I've put a lot of work into cultivating this garden. It's kind of my family's heritage. I've made arrangements, so you don't have to worry about it being improper."

"I thought you were, 'newly arrived', as you put it."

"Ahh, well, I _am _newly arrived to this particular division, but I'm not new to this facility. For reasons I'd rather we didn't go into right now, let's just say that I have fully earned my _special privileges."_

Now I was completely and utterly intrigued.

"Now Samantha, I can see that look on your face, and I know you are virtually bursting at the seams to uncover all sorts of dark secrets I might be hiding, but it really isn't that exciting. I just want to put you at ease. You know, don't want you feeling as though you're about to get involved with a man of shady morals," he laughed.

"I'm sorry Marcus, I didn't know we were embarking on a whirlwind affair."

Gee, what was I getting myself into here? I won't lie; he was appealing, very appealing. But I wasn't so lonely to try and make some guy I barely knew into Prince Charming. Though the discovery that there might be some fascinating, hidden mystery about him certainly upped his stock. I also realized that my comment about his 'breaking the rules' qualified me for an immediate diagnosis of foot-in-mouth disorder, and told him as much.

"Well, it would appear that I suffer from the same disease as you. You know what? How about we start this all over again? Hi, I'm Marcus Pinzerowski, I'm a communications tech here, and I'd really, really like to go out to dinner with you."

There wasn't a lot I could say, but I found myself liking this enigmatic man more and more. I realized that it didn't have to be anything more than just a good dinner with someone worthy of cultivating a friendship with. I didn't want to over think this. Besides Jenny, I had no other ties here, and with her getting closer to Steve, it looked like I was going to be seeing her less and less. I was merely building up my pitiful circle of friends. Just getting to know someone that could fill in the spaces between meetings and long hours in the lab.

That was all, really.

"Mr. Pinzerowski, it's a pleasure. I'm Samantha Grimm" I grinned. "Let's go get that bite to eat, I'm starving."


End file.
